


when the stars stopped shining

by echoofthewind



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Death, Drinking, I'm so sorry, Kidnapping, Lots of Angst, M/M, Sex, Traveling, a vague ending?, based off a true story, but not in way too much detail, half of this takes place in America, iwaoi - Freeform, lots of pain, mentions of rape and underage drinking, no happy ending, some humor in here but still, some language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 03:59:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5813170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/echoofthewind/pseuds/echoofthewind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"They’ve found him.” She’s breathless, her hair askew with strands falling out of her messy ponytail, her green eyes blown wide.</p><p>"They’ve found Tooru.”</p><p>Iwaizumi’s heart skips a beat.</p><p>“He’s alive.”</p><p>His heart leaps into his throat.</p><p>“And he’s coming home right now.”</p><p>His heart stops.</p>
            </blockquote>





	when the stars stopped shining

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the true story of Steven Steyner.

_Kidnapped, they said._

_Abducted._

_Missing._

_An unidentified man took him, they said._

_He was last seen eight years ago._

_If anyone has any information on his whereabouts, they are encouraged to contact the police._

_He was gone, they said._

_Gone,_

_gone,_

_gone-_

And then a scream shattered the quiet of the night.

* * *

Iwaizumi wakes up in a cold sweat, heart racing, fingers trembling, gasping for air. The world swims around for a good thirty seconds till finally, he could make out the familiar shapes of glow-in-the-dark stars and bug stickers taped to the ceiling. _A dream,_ he tells himself. _It’s just a dream. You’re okay, Hajime. It’s just a dream._

His eyes wanders to his alarm clock. _2:28,_ it read. It had to be nighttime, judging from the faint glow of the streetlights filtering in through the window. _Damn it. Not again._

He inhales deeply, the cotton of his shirt sticking to his skin uncomfortably. He sheds the clothing, tossing it into the hamper. It was the third one this week.

_Guess I’m not getting any sleep tonight._

He yawns, before reaching over for his phone, pressing the home button and gazing at the screen, as if there’d be messages there with silly emoticons and _Iwa-chan, Iwa-chan_.

There wouldn’t be any, and he knew that.

After all, there hadn’t been any communication between them for eight years.

_Eight_

_agonizing_

_years._

* * *

Eight years after the incident, Iwaizumi was still nine.

Oikawa was still nine too.

And they were still playing that one summer day, romping around in the tall grass, looking for beetles. The cicadas were still chirping their sleepy melody, and the sun was still shining down on them, hot and bright.

They were still kids. They were still innocent, blissfully unaware of the dangers of the world. Everything still was perfect and right.

Until a few hours later, when the phone calls began. When their little paradise came crumbling down. When the chaos erupted.

When everything went to hell.

Iwaizumi can still recall the startling clarity of the police sirens and his mom’s tear-stained face when she rushed in and whispered, “He’s missing.”

He can still recall when he ran to his mom and hugged her tightly, asking who exactly she was talking about.

And he can still recall how his heart dropped to the floor at the reply.

_“Tooru’s missing.”_

* * *

Iwaizumi finds himself sliding in his earbuds, his old iPod chugging away some 80s rock music. He leans his head back against the wall. The music’s a sort of therapy, he’s discovered over the years. It doesn’t do shit about everything’s that happened, but it does help to calm the storms that threaten to ravage his mind from time to time.

He closes his eyes and exhales slowly. He counts the seconds, and once he gets to eight, he inhales.

The stars taped to the ceiling radiate with a dim, hazy glow. It’s been years since they’ve been put up there. Probably seven years now. He remembers getting them as a Christmas present the year after Oikawa was taken.

He smiles wryly to himself. His sense of time has been warped; everything’s been based off of Oikawa’s disappearance. Three years after the disappearance, he entered middle school. Six years after the disappearance, he entered high school. Now, eight years have passed, and Iwaizumi’s worrying about university entrance exams.

He clenches the bedsheets at the thought that his best friend may not be there at graduation.

 _May_ , as opposed to _not at all_. He still holds onto some mangled shreds of hope that somehow, out of the blue, Oikawa’ll appear with that smile that took his breath away, those warm chocolate eyes glimmering with a playfulness he’d come to begrudgingly love. He wonders how his best friend would look in his school uniform and how he’d grin like crazy as he held up his diploma, and Iwaizumi’s smile widens by a millimeter.

It’d be a sight indeed. A beautiful one.

His smile gradually wanes.

_If only he was still here._

* * *

Iwaizumi remembers how on that day, his world laid at his feet in countless pieces. Eight years after the incident, he’s managed to restore some sense of reality to his life, but there are still some pieces that are missing.

And may remain missing forever.

He remembers how he slipped down to the floor, barely clinging to his mom’s flowing skirt, the tears rising up in him. He remembers how, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop crying. He remembers how he cried like he’d never done before for three days straight and how when finally, _finally_ he stopped crying, he was numb. He couldn’t feel anything. The light was gone from his life, and he couldn’t do shit about it.

Iwaizumi knows that a part of him died that day. When that man took Oikawa, he took Iwaizumi’s childish innocence as well.

Eight years later, the wound from the experience has healed substantially.

But Iwaizumi knows that despite the healing, things can never go back to how they were.

After all, some things, once taken away, can never be taken back.

* * *

There’s a phone call the next morning and a flurry of activity downstairs.

They weren’t supposed to have company over today as far as Iwaizumi was aware. The only time that things would get busy at their house was when someone came over.

But when his mother bursts into his room, Iwaizumi discovers that it wasn’t about mere company.

 _“They’ve found him.”_ She’s breathless, her hair askew with strands falling out of her messy ponytail, her green eyes blown wide.

“What?” he dumbly stammers out.

_“They’ve found Tooru.”_

Iwaizumi’s heart skips a beat.

_“He’s alive.”_

His heart leaps into his throat.

_“And he’s coming home right now.”_

His heart stops.

* * *

Iwaizumi rushes down the stairs and out the front door. It’s cold, and the fact that he’s not wearing any shoes or a jacket doesn’t help, but right now, he couldn’t give a damn. All he wants right now is Oikawa.

Just as he makes it to the gates, a car pulls up, and the passenger door swings wide. Foreignly familiar waves of brown hair appear as the figure steps out, and Iwaizumi knows instantly-that’s Oikawa. That’s _his_ Oikawa.

All of a sudden, Iwaizumi can’t breathe. He grasps around for the key to open the gates, and once he’s located it, he clumsily sticks the damn thing in the lock and turns, hearing the soft _click_. He fumbles while pulling the key out, and he pushes the doors away, _out of the way,_ he’s desperate-

And Oikawa flies into his arms.

Iwaizumi loses his balance and tips over, and _ow, his back hurts_ , but the pain pales in comparison to the joy.

He can’t say anything. He can’t open his mouth. He’s struck dumb, and he curses himself. _Fucking idiot. Just say something, Hajime. Anything._

But he can’t.

He just can’t.

 _“Hajime.”_ That voice is deeper than Iwaizumi remembers, but it’s still melodic and soothing, and _god,_ he loves the way his first name flows from those sweet lips. _“Hajime.”_

Somehow, _somehow,_ Iwaizumi gets his arms to wrap around this beautifully real dream and his vocal cords to work, a mere whisper leaving his lips.

_“Tooru.”_

It’s just them. Iwaizumi doesn’t care that they’re visible to the passerby or that the gates are still open. He doesn’t care that the cold air’s getting into the house or that he’s freezing, because all that he's ever wanted has come back home to his arms.

He chants Oikawa’s name like a mantra, a prayer, and he can’t stop.

_“Tooru. Tooru. Tooru.”_

And he hears his own name repeated in a chorus, and the tears begin to slide down, down, down his cheeks.

_“Hajime. Hajime. Hajime.”_

And in that moment, Iwaizumi wants to do nothing more but kiss those lips over and over and over again, till they’re both breathless and spent. He wants nothing more than to love Oikawa with every inch of himself, to tangle their fingers and legs together and lay intertwined, to be lost in this newfound bliss.

 _“Tooru.”_ A hand drifts up Oikawa’s back into his hair, and fingers curl, painstakingly gentle.

_“Welcome home, Tooru.”_

And Oikawa merely smiles. _“I’m home, Hajime. I’m finally home.”_

* * *

Iwaizumi’s parents and Oikawa meet briefly, and Oikawa’s showered with hugs and a few kisses, and _oh god,_ he’s in tears, and it’s so beautiful, and Iwaizumi knows that if he stays in that room a second longer, he’d be bawling, so he retreats to outside the living room. Fortunately, his parents don’t keep them long; they soon let Oikawa go, and the two boys retreat upstairs to the quiet of Iwaizumi’s room.

Oikawa tumbles onto his bed, and Iwaizumi comes down with him, and for once, Iwaizumi kisses his pride goodbye and hugs his best friend tightly, their legs tangling in a spectacular mess of limbs, their arms wrapped snugly around each other’s bodies.

“I missed you. I missed you so much.” This time, Iwaizumi’s the first one to speak. His voice is muffled since his head’s buried in Oikawa’s neck, but the words are still decipherable.

“Oh _god_ , Iwa-chan, I missed you too. I’m so happy to be back.” Oikawa’s melting in his arms, and it’s the most perfect thing Iwaizumi’s felt in his life. “Oh my god. I can’t believe it...but I’m back. I’m back, Iwa-chan, and I’m here to stay.”

If the tears hadn’t come earlier in the living room, they sure came now. Iwaizumi cries and cries and cries, and it’s probably a gross sight because there’s snot and tears, but _fuck it_ , Oikawa’s back and here to stay and that’s all that Iwaizumi needs to know.

Oikawa cries with him, and he probably looks gross too, but Iwaizumi thinks he’s beyond compare, and it takes almost ten minutes for them to calm down enough to properly speak.

“You’ve grown a lot, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa starts, rubbing at his eyes and nose.

“Of course, I have. It’s been eight years...and you’ve grown a lot too. You’re taller than me now.”

“Oh, how the tables have turned.” There’s so much fondness in those words, and Iwaizumi can’t help but crack a smile. “How...has life been? Do you still like bugs and volleyball?”

“It’s been...okay.” _Lonely without you,_ he nearly adds _._ “But yes, I still like bugs and volleyball. I’m captain and ace of Seijoh’s team now.”

“Really~? My Iwa-chan’s become even cooler over the years.” Oikawa smiles one of those rare quiet, genuine smiles.

Iwaizumi’s caught on one word. _My._ He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and Oikawa cocks his head in that irresistibly adorable way that’s his alone.

“Iwa-chan?”

“Yeah?” Iwaizumi’s forest irises flicker.

Oikawa takes in a breath and continues smiling that pretty smile. “...You know, the entire time I was gone...I was always thinking of you. Throughout the day too, but at night especially...you were all I thought about.”

Well, Iwaizumi certainly hadn’t expected _that._

...Not like he minded, though.

“...There wasn’t a day that’s gone by where I didn’t think of you, Iwa-chan.” Soft fingers press into Iwaizumi’s cheek, and their faces inch towards each other.

_Oh._

Their foreheads touch, and Iwaizumi could feel his breath mingle with Oikawa’s. Oikawa’s gaze snares his, and there’s something in those beautiful brown skies that Iwaizumi just can’t read.

But maybe it’s okay just this once. Maybe it was okay not to know what was going on in those eyes.

They’re so close now, and Iwaizumi’s sure that Oikawa could hear his heart going mad. He’s cornered-but he doesn’t care.

Their lips brush. It’s lingering, slow, thoughtful, and as their lips move, Iwaizumi absentmindedly remembers that this is his first kiss.

A few seconds pass, and Oikawa pulls away, his face glowing with a soft pink. “...I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” he murmurs. “A...really long time.”

And Iwaizumi merely answers with another kiss.

* * *

When Iwaizumi wakes up, he finds a note on top of his bedside table. He rolls over, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with one hand, while his other hand grabs the yellow paper. He squints, drowsiness blurring the words.

_Hey, Iwa-chan!ゝ。∂_

_My parents called me home, so I had to leave. I didn’t want to wake you up. Your sleeping face is way too cute, plus if I remember correctly, you’re grumpy when you wake up. I don’t wanna leave, if I had to be honest!! I’d always stay with you…_

_I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?_

_Love you dearly,_

_Oikawa Tooru_

Iwaizumi lays on his side, drawing the paper close to his chest and closing his eyes. He could still catch a whiff of Oikawa’s scent. It’s different than from when they were kids. He couldn’t place exactly what it was. Figures.

Time was like that. It could weave itself into the fabric of human life so subtly, and only when you looked back do you realize how much had changed. That was its nature, after all. It didn’t change things instantly. It’s in the name; it always, always took its time.

* * *

Iwaizumi recalls the lazy evenings after volleyball when Oikawa came over for dinner. Over food, the Iwaizumi family and Oikawa alike rediscovered the gift of laughter, the gift that replenished the places in their hearts that had gone dry over the years and brought life anew. It was as if Oikawa had never left.

Afterwards, Iwaizumi and Oikawa hung out in Iwaizumi’s room, and the ace still remembers how his fingers would trace tales of longing across the milky expanse of Oikawa’s back, climbing the mountains of his shoulder blades and skimming the valleys of his spine and lower back. Or how his fingers tangled just perfectly in Oikawa’s hair, combing through the strands with a gentleness he never knew he possessed. Or how he contented himself with listening to the steady rhythm of Oikawa’s heartbeat pattering away like the occasional rain on the windowsill.

They shared a sweet intimacy that masked the storm raging underneath Oikawa’s skin.

* * *

The first time Iwaizumi detects that something’s wrong is a few weeks later. Oikawa’s gotten back in some sort of routine, going to school, volleyball, home, sleep. He’d been going strong for a month and a half-

Until he suddenly didn’t show up.

As soon as school ends, Iwaizumi rushes over. The thought that he’d have to apologize to the team later briefly flits through his mind before disappearing altogether.

He finds the door unlocked and slips inside.

The house is eerily quiet.

He takes a breath and climbs the stairs, heading to the place in this house he knew the best.

“Oikawa,” he calls. He can hear the steady _clink, clink_ of glass and laughter from inside Oikawa’s room.

The door swings open.

And there Oikawa is, sitting cross legged in the middle of the floor, glass bottles clustered by his feet. His cheeks are flushed with a startlingly pretty hue of pink. Clear inebriation. He’s gone under. Those normally focused chocolate irises are swimming, and a few hiccups wrack his body. His laughter only increases in volume when he registers- _barely,_ Iwaizumi thinks-his best friend standing in the doorway.

The room reeks of alcohol.

“Iwa- _hic-_ chan~ Yer here!” Oikawa rises to his feet, or tries to at least, before suddenly slipping back down to the floor in a slump. “Did you- _hic-_ bring anything for me to drink? I’m not happy without my alcohol…”

_Shit._

Exactly what the hell happened to Oikawa in those eight years?

Oikawa wouldn’t answer that question sober. He wouldn’t tell a single soul, not even Iwaizumi. All that Iwaizumi could figure that whatever it was, it wasn’t pleasant, from the strangely blank expressions he’d get in answer.

Would drinking reveal the truth?

“Oikawa, what the hell are you doing?” Iwaizumi steps forward a few meters, going down on a knee. _“What the hell is this?”_ he whispers. 

The brunette merely giggles, waving around a half empty bottle of something. Iwaizumi wouldn’t know. “Mm, just trying to unwind a bit- _hic-_ Iwa-chan~ Do you want some~? I can share…~”

Iwaizumi shakes his head, reaching over and grasping the other’s shoulders. " _No._ What the _fuck_ are you doing? What is _this_?” He motions with a hand to the bottles scattered across the floor.

Oikawa juts out his lower lip, his arms finding their way around Iwaizumi’s neck and drawing him in close. “Can’t you tell, Iwa-chan~?” he husks, and Iwaizumi has to admit he’s mildly impressed at how comprehensibly Oikawa could speak despite drinking so much, but that isn’t the point. _“Genshu. Sh_ _ōchū. Awamori. Maybe a lil’ beer too. All the good stuff.”_ He twirls a hand, as if he was demanding something. _“_ Haven’t you had any- _hic_ -Iwa-chan? _Everything’s so good...I feel so good now...It blocks out the world...”_

The stench of alcohol is already making Iwaizumi feel a bit woozy, and he has to pull away briefly to clear his head-barely. Iwaizumi sets a goal: pry Oikawa away from the alcohol and then get something for his oncoming headache.

“No, I haven’t,” he answers honestly, setting the bottles and a few crumpled cans to the side, which elicited some whines from Oikawa. _“_ Nooooo~ Iwa-chan- _hic_ -don’t take them away…! _”_

Iwaizumi sighs, shuffling around and trying to lift Oikawa off the floor and onto the bed, but the alcohol certainly isn’t helping, and _damn,_ Oikawa had really grown in the last few years.

After a few minutes of flailing on Oikawa’s part and grunting on Iwaizumi’s, Oikawa’s finally laying on top of the mattress on his side. Iwaizumi wipes his forehead, propping up a pillow to support Oikawa’s back.

“Iwa-chan~” the brunette mewls, grasping weakly at the sheets. “Why...why...did you have to take them away…?”

 _Water. I need to get some water._ Iwaizumi glances around, snagging a water bottle sitting out by the window and popping open the cap. Oikawa’s eyes gleam with promise for a moment. Iwaizumi kneels down by the bed, tipping the bottle over, the water cascading into Oikawa’s mouth steadily. It only takes a gulp for him to realize that it wasn’t alcohol, and he protests.

 _“Iwa-chan~!”_  

Iwaizumi reaches out, tangling their fingers. “...What happened?” he murmurs under his breath.

He didn’t intend for Oikawa to hear that, much less answer.

“...It drowns out the pain...the alcohol...drowns out the pain…” comes a soft whimper.

Iwaizumi’s eyes widen.

“...I’m filthy, Iwa-chan...I’m so filthy…no one but that dirty man wants me...I hate him...I hate him so much…”

Iwaizumi feels the blood run cold in his veins.

“He took it all away...I wanted to love you...and only you...but that man...that man... _hic..._ he made me love him in such disgusting ways...I’m so horrible...I am…”

Iwaizumi squeezes the hand within his. He wants to say, _No, you’re still my beautiful Tooru-_

But the words wouldn’t come.

All he could do is listen.

“...I hate him...I can still feel his hands all over me...touching me...fondling me...I didn’t want it… _hic..._ I didn’t want it…” Oikawa’s voice breaks at the last part, and Iwaizumi feels his heart breaking in tandem. The tears are threatening to fall out of Oikawa’s eyes now. “The morning after...I was gone...he took the old me away...he took it all....”

Iwaizumi feels sick. Part of him wants to drown out the pain of listening to this-

But another part of him keeps him glued to that floor, against that bed, their hands intertwined.

“...It hurt...it hurt…” Oikawa’s sobbing now, the fabric of his pillow cover darkening with every word. “...It hurt...I could still remember...the blood…”

Iwaizumi can’t breathe. He clutches the sheets, feeling like all the wind was knocked out of his lungs. _Stop,_ he wants to say. _No more._

_Please. No more._

“...It hurt...oh _god,_ Iwa-chan...it was so bad…” Oikawa’s trembling, eyes screwing shut as the tears keep pouring down his beautiful cheeks. “...I only wanted... _hic..._ one person to love me...and that person was you…not him…”

_Shit._

The alcohol seems oddly appealing now. Iwaizumi turns his head, eyeing the remainder of the bottles.

_Fuck._

He leans over and reaches for one, and as the Shōchū scorches down his throat, he feels a sinking feeling.

He wants to drown out the pain too.

And he goes under.

* * *

The light hurts.

Iwaizumi can’t feel his limbs, and there’s a ringing in his ears and a pounding in his head. “Fuck…” He struggles to sit up, raising a hand to his forehead. “What the fuck…”

His head pivots 90 degrees, finding Oikawa sleeping besides him. He then turns his head to look down at himself. He still has his clothes on. Good.

He shakily rises to his feet, cursing under his breath and nearly tripping on a bottle on the way out. When he steps into the hallway, it hits him.

This wasn’t his home.

He and Oikawa had been drinking.

Today, they had school.

But no matter how hard he wracks his brain, he couldn’t remember anything after the first gulp of alcohol.

_Fuck._

* * *

Oikawa wasn’t at school the next day.

Or the day after.

Or the day after that.

And then Iwaizumi overhears it.

And finally, everything makes sense.

* * *

It’s a mistake. Iwaizumi really wasn’t supposed to have heard it-

But he did.

Two teachers in the staff room, talking amongst themselves. He’s there to pick up a notebook. It’s something simple, the usual.

That is, until he catches those horrifying words.

“Did you hear? I heard that one student dropped out.”

“The one who transferred in just a few weeks ago?”

“Yes, _that_ one. Oikawa was his last name…”

“Oikawa Tooru?”

“Yes, that’s the name.”

“Why did he do it?”

“I’m not sure...but I overheard from the students that Oikawa was molested…”

“That’s…poor kid. I don’t blame him for dropping out...Damaged goods, after all.”

“His life is gone.”

Iwaizumi wants to yell and scream and cry out, _He’s mine, he’s mine. He’s damaged from the experience. But he’s not gone. His life isn’t over. He can still live on. He’s still here._

_He’s still here..._

Part of Iwaizumi just wants to run out and break down. And another part of him wants to beat some bloody sense into those teachers, to tell them the truth with his fists-

But he merely bows his head respectfully at the two men before stepping out, clutching the notebook hard against his chest.

* * *

_Weak._

_Weak._

He should have said something, Iwaizumi knows, he should have. _But he was weak and scared and pathetic._

_Stupid. Idiot. Coward._

He unlocks the door of his home.

And Oikawa with two suitcases in tow greets him.

“Hey, Iwa-chan.”

* * *

“...Why are you here...with suitcases?” Iwaizumi sighs, sliding onto his bed and sitting cross legged.

“Well, isn’t it obvious, Iwa-chan? I’m gonna be living here for a little while.” Oikawa plops down a few centimeters away, lips tilting up in that trademark smile of his, although something felt forced about it.

“Not that I mind, but...why?”

“...Ahaha, I kinda...got kicked out of the house.”

Iwaizumi’s eyes go wide. “The hell?”

“...’Cording to Dad, I was causing just a lil’ too much trouble with drinking and all that…” Oikawa shrugs sheepishly, inching forward till he was sitting in Iwaizumi’s lap. “Said that I hafta get my life together and not be such a disgrace and shit. I don’t know.”

Iwaizumi closes his eyes, resting his head on Oikawa’s shoulder. They’re both quiet for a few minutes, basking together in this sweet warmth, before Iwaizumi finally breaks the silence.

“Tooru. I want to take you somewhere.”

* * *

“Isn’t this the secret field that we accidentally stumbled into when we were little kids, Iwa-chan?”

“Yeah.”

“Why are you bringing me here?” A hand slips into Iwaizumi’s.

“I wanted to show you something.” Iwaizumi tugs Oikawa along for a few more meters. They finally stop in front of a tree. The trunk is marked up with roughly etched kana, the emotion in each stroke woven into the fabric of the bark.

Oikawa’s eyes scan over each word. Tears begin to pour into his eyes and eventually, down his cheeks as his gaze drifts over every centimeter of bark. “...Oh my god. _Oh my god._ _Iwa-chan._ ” Oikawa falls into Iwaizumi’s arms, pressing his face into that strong shoulder, into _home._

_I miss you, Oikawa._

_I’m lonely without you._

_I wish you were here._

_I want you to come back._

_I need you._

_I love you._

* * *

Oikawa ends up working some odd jobs around town for a while. He’d gotten his middle school diploma sometime while he was gone, and for the places he works at, it’s enough. He has enough money to get by, and with a little help from his mom, he rents an apartment of his own.

In the meantime, Iwaizumi finds himself in college, writing papers and reading and taking down notes like there was no tomorrow. He drowns himself in working himself down to the bone, but occasionally, he comes back to the surface by visiting Oikawa over the holidays and breaks. It’s hard being away from Oikawa, and Iwaizumi comes to develop a healthy respect for those in long distance relationships.

* * *

It’s the third year after Oikawa returned home.

And it’s the second summer break that Iwaizumi spends with Oikawa at his apartment.

And it’s the first time they make love.

It’s fast, unexpected, heated. It comes out of the blue, and maybe it was a bit rushed. Looking back on it, it wasn’t the most romantic way of going about sex.

But Iwaizumi wouldn’t have it any other way.

They’re a bit tipsy. Iwaizumi, despite the voice inside screaming at him not to, downs a couple of shots and is out of it. Oikawa’s better off, still chattering away, although his cheeks sport a soft pink.

This time, though, they’re not breaking any laws. They’re twenty. It’s alright.

Iwaizumi isn’t sure how Oikawa ends up in his lap. And he _certainly_ isn’t sure when Oikawa begins kissing him hot and rough and with just a little too much tongue.

He barely registers his back pressing against the floor as Oikawa unbuttons his shirt and tugs off his pants a few minutes later, but afterwards, when Iwaizumi comes to and sees his boyfriend lying naked besides him with those eyelashes kissing his cheeks ever so perfectly and that wonderfully marked chest rising and falling in a sweet rhythm, he knows he doesn’t regret a single second of it.

* * *

They’re both 23 and living together in a larger, more spacious apartment now. Oikawa has a steady job at a pizza place, while Iwaizumi’s fresh out of college with a business degree under his name and a marketing job at a big company. They’re no longer just scraping by, and while they’re not living super lavishly, they’re secure, and that’s all that matters.

* * *

Iwaizumi steps into the apartment at five in the evening, muttering a soft _I’m home_ under his breath. He’s greeted with a sweet _Welcome home, Iwa-chan_ and a peck on the cheek from Oikawa.

“Hey, darling. How was work today?”

“If you consider getting bitched at by the team manager good, then work was good.”

“Oh, Iwa-chan. What happened?” Arms wrap around Iwaizumi’s neck, drawing him in close, and slowly, ever so slowly, the tension melts away from his shoulders.

“We all had to submit proposals for a project, and the crazy woman ended up throwing all our ideas out. It’s hell, I tell you.”

“My goodness…That’s rough.” Oikawa lays another kiss on his cheek, his eyes glimmering with sympathy. “Why don’t we talk about it more over dinner? I’ve got some tofu cooking. Your favorite kind. Agedashi.”

Oikawa always knows how to lift his spirits up, and Iwaizumi can’t fend off the grin that takes over his scowl. “...Thanks, Tooru.”

* * *

The tofu tastes especially good tonight. Maybe it’s because Iwaizumi pours out the concerns weighing down on him at work. Maybe it’s because Oikawa strokes his hand, reassuring him that he’s smart and doing the absolute best he can. Maybe it’s because of their lingering gazes on each other.

Iwaizumi doesn’t know why, but that’s okay. He knows he appreciates every moment of their stable little life together, because Lord knew how long their little reconstructed paradise is going to last.

* * *

“Mm, relax a bit, Iwa-chan. There’s some more tofu in the fridge if you get hungry later, okay?” Oikawa presses their lips together briefly, sliding into his sneakers by the door. He’s off to work now, and while it’s a shame that they can’t spend too much time together in the evenings, they can do little about it out of necessity.

“Alright, alright. Stay safe out there.” Iwaizumi leans over, ruffling the other’s irresistible brown locks. “I love you.”

“I love you too. I’m going now.”

“Take care.”

A soft smile, and then the door closes.

They’ve done this every day for the past year, but Iwaizumi still feels a pang in his heart. It’s always lonely without Oikawa, after all.

* * *

Oikawa returns around one in the morning, and he murmurs _I’m home_ as he closes the door behind him, locking it. The apartment’s quiet, but it’s normal.

He walks into the bedroom and turns the light on. Iwaizumi stirs a bit and rolls over, but he doesn’t wake up. Oikawa couldn’t stifle a giggle at that; his boyfriend was pretty damn cute when he was asleep. He quickly washes up in the bathroom and then strips out of his uniform into an alien T-shirt and sweatpants. He switches the light off before sliding in besides Iwaizumi, closing his eyes and inhaling in home and love and everything good and beautiful in the world.

“Good night, Iwa-chan,” he whispers, pressing his nose into that strong, omnipresent back and curling his arms around that wonderful waist. “I love you.”

* * *

“Tooru.”

Oikawa’s head lifts from his book, at attention now. Iwaizumi doesn’t use his first name all that often, after all.

“...Yes, Iwa-chan?”

“...I want to talk to you about something.”

_Uh oh._

“What is it?” Oikawa puts the book down on the table, scooting closer to his lover. “Is something wrong?”

Iwaizumi blinks and chuckles, shaking his head. “No, nothing’s wrong. Although...I did get an offer from the CEO of the company at work.”

“Like...a promotion?”

“Yeah, something like that. According to him, I can get an annual salary of fifteen million yen...but that requires us to-”

“Yes, Iwa-chan. My answer’s yes.” Oikawa’s tone is firm, laced with underlying excitement.

“Wait. We’d have to move from here to America.”

Oikawa’s jaw drops. _“America?!”_

A solemn nod.

“B-But neither of us can speak proper English!”

“The company offered to give me training in English before we’re scheduled to leave.”

“That’s...such a huge move, though.”

“It is. Which is why I asked you before I make a decision about it.”

Oikawa clutches the other’s arms, his fingers trembling. He gazes down at his lap thoughtfully for a few minutes.

But finally he answers.

“...My answer’s still yes.”

* * *

_“Yes, I understand.”_ Iwaizumi manages to read in his best English. He should have paid a little more attention in English class in high school, he muses to himself, as his eyes continue to scan the words on the page. _“I’m sor...ry. I will con...tact the man...a...ger.”_

A meter away from him sits Oikawa, who’s squinting at the convoluted mess of lines on a map of California. “So...we have to take...Interstate 580...and California 99 South…Oh my god, why is California so fucking complicated?!” He folds up the map and throws it against the wall. “Holy shit, I swear to god-”

“Tooru, I will gladly switch with you. You can learn English, and I can navigate.” Iwaizumi puts down his book, rubbing his temple. “This is harder than I thought.”

Oikawa sighs. “I wish we could switch, but you’re the one with the glamorous marketing job.”

Iwaizumi groans. “Don’t remind me.”

* * *

“What airline are we flying? Do you know?” Oikawa murmurs, outlining their route from San Francisco to Atwater with a pen.

“The only two airlines that go from Narita to San Francisco is All Nippon and United...I think the company booked us for All Nippon.”

“Yay! Are we flying down from Sendai to Narita? Because if not, I sure as hell am not gonna drive four and a half hours to get down there.”

“Yeah, we are.”

“Oh, thank _god.”_

* * *

“Business class? I can certainly get used to this.” Oikawa plops down in his seat with a more than pleased sigh. “Okay, I love your company- Ooh, what does this button do?” He presses something.

“Oikawa, I swear to god-”

“Yes, sir? How may I help you?” A flight attendant peers down at him.

“Oh, this button calls for the flight attendant! That’s so cool! Um...since you’re here…could I please get a glass of water? Pretty please? I’m absolutely parched…” Oikawa flutters his eyelashes, and in that moment, Iwaizumi wants nothing to more but to turn down the charm dial on his boyfriend which is perpetually on its highest setting. _What a schmoozer._

“Oh...ah, of course, sir!” The girl’s cheeks color with a soft pink, before she scampers off.

“Flirtikawa,” Iwaizumi mutters from the seat over. He isn’t jealous. He swears he isn’t jealous.

“You know I only have the hots for you, Iwa-chan- Oh my goodness, thank you!” Oikawa grins as he’s handed a glass of water and a cookie. “Oh, and a cookie too? You’re such a sweetheart.” He winks at the attendant.

The poor girl squeaks, bowing respectfully. “T-Thank you! P-Please let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you! W-We hope you enjoy the flight!” She scuttles away to help a passenger with their luggage.

“Oh my- You know what, I’m just not gonna even-”

“Hey, hey, Iwa-chan! Try this!” Oikawa swings over, sticking a cookie right in between his boyfriend’s lips. Iwaizumi thoughtfully munches on the confection. He nods in approval.

“Not bad.”

“You can have the rest of it.” Oikawa giggles and pokes Iwaizumi’s nose with a finger.

 _Okay. Maybe it’s not all bad that my boyfriend’s a natural schmoozer,_ Iwaizumi thinks to himself.

* * *

“Heeeeyyyy, Iwa-chaaaan? Iwa-chaaaaan?”

“What?”

“Do you ever get homesick? Do you?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“It’s a simple question.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what do you mean?”

“Never mind. Just let me sleep.”

“But you didn’t answer my question.”

“If I answer it, will you let me go to sleep?”

“Sure.”

“Then yes, I do get homesick.”

“I think I’m homesick too. That must be why I feel like puking.”

“That’s not homesickness, Oikawa. That’s just plain ol’ sickness...Shit.”

“Uh, Iwa-chan, I-”

Iwaizumi manages to grab a sick bag in time, holding it to his boyfriend’s mouth as he pukes into it.

“...Ugh...thanks, Iwa-chan.”

“Don’t mention it.”

* * *

“Ah, I feel so much better.” Oikawa grins as he eats his food.

“I don’t. I kinda lost my appetite after seeing you throw up.”

“Ehhh? Does that mean I can eat your food?”

“Sure. Just as long as you don’t throw up again.”

“Yay!”

* * *

“...Iwa-chan...I think I have diarrhea.”

Iwaizumi whips his head around so fast that it was a wonder how he didn’t snap his neck. “...What?”

“I don’t think airplane food sits well with my stomach.”

“Oh my god…”

“I just went to the bathroom...and now I have to go again.”

“Then go!”

“But I can’t...I just went! People are gonna wonder why this young, attractive guy keeps going to the bathroom every five minutes!”

_“Oh my god, Shittikawa, no one’s gonna care-”_

“Iwa-chan, you made a pun.”

“...Oh my god.”

* * *

“Iwa-chan, how much longer do we have?” Oikawa’s getting fidgety.

“We have another four and a half hours to go.”

“What the fuuuuuuuuccccckkkk-”

“Just sleep. Or watch a movie. I don’t know.”

“Oh, I know a good way of passing the time!”

“What is it?”

“We can fuck.”

_“Oikawa, that’s not something you say in a public setting.”_

“But Mr. Refreshing told me before I left about something called the ‘Mile-High Club’ and-”

“...I’m gonna kick that guy’s ass when we come back, refreshing or not.”

* * *

“Ah~ We’re finally here!” Oikawa stands up, stretching his arms and legs. “Ooh...San Fran’s pretty~ Look at the airport~”

“Yeah, I know...Ah, shit, where’s my IDP and license? I need those to get our rental car…” Iwaizumi searches through his computer bag, before he finally fishes the required documents out. “Okay, got ‘em.”

Oikawa tugs their carry ons with Iwaizumi in tow. “...Alright. So where are we going?”

“Well, we have to go through customs and then get our luggage. Once that happens, we take a bus out to the rental place…”

“Oh boy~ So complicated...Do you have our passports?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t lose them, Iwa-chan~”

“...You do realize I’m more responsible than you are when it comes to keeping track of things, right?”

“Rude!”

* * *

After waiting fifteen minutes, the two make their way through customs, get a hold of their luggage, and head outside to catch the rental car bus.

“...Alright. So it’s...this one…” Iwaizumi scrutinizes the name. “Now, there’s supposed to be a bus every five minutes...so hopefully one’ll stop by.”

Five minutes pass.

Then ten minutes.

Then fifteen.

Twenty.

Twenty five.

Thirty.

“Uh, Iwa-chan...you said there’d be a bus every five minutes.”

“I know. I don’t know what the hell’s going on. I’m gonna call these idiots.” Iwaizumi dials up the number on his company phone. “Come on, pick up…”

A couple of minutes pass with Iwaizumi talking in accented, angry English and Oikawa standing there clueless as to what was going on. The buses and cars all honk and spit out exhaust, and Oikawa’s sure he’d never seen such congestion and pollution in his life till now.

After a bit, Iwaizumi’s call ends, and he turns to Oikawa. “Americans sometimes…”

“What happened?”

“They didn’t even tell me what happened. But there’ll be a bus coming to pick us up in a few minutes.”

Two minutes later, a bus pulls up, and the two haul their suitcases in. “Finally,” Iwaizumi muttered.

* * *

Iwaizumi takes care of the paperwork, and the two are out and on their way.

“It’s supposed to be a two hour drive. We can stop for some food along the way, though.” Iwaizumi adjusts his mirrors before starting up the car and driving out of the parking lot.

“Thank goodness. I don’t think my stomach can handle any more airplane food.”

“We’ll get something that’ll sit well in your stomach, I promise.” Iwaizumi reaches over and rests a hand on the other’s thigh.

“We’re starting a new life here…” Oikawa muses, squeezing his boyfriend’s hand. “This is...gonna be quite the adventure, isn’t it?”

“It’ll be as adventurous as you want to make it,” comes the reply.

“Maybe...I can get away from all that happened.”

Iwaizumi’s grip on the steering wheel tightens. “...You can’t avoid everything that happened. But you can learn from it and realize that you’ve come out stronger. You’re still here, and you’re still living. Things can’t go back to the way they used to be, so learn from the past and remember you can’t live in it forever. Otherwise, you’ll miss out on the present, and the present always shapes the future. So live in the right now, and make the best of it.”

Oikawa’s quiet for a few minutes. Iwaizumi wonders if he said something wrong or insensitive, but the other’s reply quells his fears.

“You’re right. Let’s make the best of the present in the hopes of a better future together.”

* * *

“Ah~ This is a really nice place~” Oikawa coos, running his fingers across the smooth granite countertops in the kitchen. “Ooh, the stovetop and cabinets are brand new too!”

Iwaizumi opens the door to one of the bathrooms, whistling. “Damn. This _is_ really nice.”

“You’ve really outdone yourself with this job, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa calls as he comes down the hallway. “This is perfect. No, that’s not right...It’s _beyond_ perfect.”

Iwaizumi snorts as he feels those wonderfully familiar arms wrap around his waist, drawing him in close. He leans into the other’s embrace, his eyelids sliding closed blissfully.

“I’m...really happy, Iwa-chan.”

“I’m happy too. It isn’t really the nice place that brings me the happiness, though.”

“Eh?”

“...It’s the fact that you’re here with me that brings me the most joy.”

“...Iwa-chan…”

Iwaizumi finds himself being turned around, his back pressing against the nearby wall as a wonderfully sweet pair of lips brushes against his in that one way that always sends shivers down his spine and his heart into overdrive. _“God...Hajime…”_

Iwaizumi grasps onto the other’s shirt, drawing him in closer, because he knows he wants more, more, _more._ And Oikawa seems to know it too, pressing a trail of kisses down his neck.

“I want to make love to you.” Oikawa’s voice flows so beautifully, sweet and low, and Iwaizumi feels like his legs are made of putty. “Right now. Can I?”

This time, Iwaizumi finds that his lips move without any hesitation.

“Of course.”

* * *

It’s unconventional having sex on the floor without anything to lie down on, but the carpet’s surprisingly comfortable, so it’s not too bad.

Their clothes lay abandoned in the corner of the room in a messy pile. The lights remain on in the bathroom and kitchen, forgotten.

The world fades out into the background.

It’s just them now.

* * *

“Mm...lay back for me, darling.”

Iwaizumi obeys, back hitting the carpet, his tanned, strong legs spread, exposing those inner thighs that Oikawa never tired of.

“Just like that, baby. You’re looking even more gorgeous than usual.” The glow of those steadfast brown eyes and the constant praise that left those divine lips weaves a web, one that Iwaizumi’s content to never get out of.

Iwaizumi’s quiet during these rare times. He allows Oikawa to set the pace.

Oikawa leans over, eliciting pleased sighs and moans using his lips, teeth, and tongue, leaving constellations of purple stars behind. And Iwaizumi doesn’t mind. He loves how every mark is a testament to the fact that he belonged to this beauty.

A hand slides down his chest, detouring to a nipple, flicking and rolling it around between two fingers, and _fuck_ , Iwaizumi’s moans are so delicious that he can’t help but provide the other nipple with the same stimulation. The other hand slips down between those strong legs, squeezing and rubbing and providing the glorious friction that Iwaizumi craves. The symphony of moans only climbs in volume at that, and Oikawa’s contemplating letting his lover cum right then and there.

_Not yet._

Oikawa’s hand goes still, and Iwaizumi groans, a bit frustrated. “Tooru…”

“Shh.” Oikawa leans forward, laying an index finger on his lover’s lips. “I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

Iwaizumi relents, and he’s quiet again.

 _You don’t have to miss me anymore._ Oikawa’s fingers skims across Iwaizumi’s heated flesh, teasingly gentle, fleeting.

 _You don’t have to be lonely anymore._ Iwaizumi sighs as a finger circles his entrance, patient, loving.

 _I’m here now._ Oikawa slips a digit inside, then a second, and finally a third, the wonderful heat squeezing around his fingers ever so perfectly.

 _I’ve come back._ Iwaizumi arches up, his lips opening in a silent, breathless gasp.

 _I need you too._ Oikawa pulls his fingers out, and after lubing himself up, he positions himself at Iwaizumi’s entrance. He takes one last breath.

 _And I’ll always, always love you._ Iwaizumi moans soft and low as his lover presses in all the way, and it’s so wonderfully _perfect,_ and _shit,_ it feels so good, _so fucking good._ Iwaizumi finds himself clutching onto those wonderfully steady shoulders as Oikawa _moves_ , and the breath’s ripped out of his lungs as everything fades into a sweet, lazy pleasure for a few moments.

And then, it’s building, building, building till all Iwaizumi can feel is the euphoria washing over his body, and he simply floats on that little piece of heaven for a good while as he slowly descends from his high. Oikawa’s breathing evens out, a perfect lullaby.

And then Iwaizumi hears those words, words that still ring loud and clear years later when everything beautiful’s faded and gone. _“...I love you...Hajime.... I'll always love you. For the rest of our lives and beyond that...for the rest of eternity...I'll love you.”_

* * *

They’re stable now. Oikawa can only do so much with his limited English, but he learns surprisingly quickly, Iwaizumi notes one night as they’re sitting in front of the TV and indulging in one another.

“Hey, hey, Iwa-chan...Listen to this!”

Iwaizumi lifts his head from its perch on his lover’s shoulder.

And his jaw drops at how fluently Oikawa reads an article from yesterday’s newspaper. It’s in near perfect English, and _holy shit, when did my boyfriend learn how to read like that_ crosses Iwaizumi’s mind.

Oikawa easily deciphers the shock on his lover’s face, tilting his head back and laughing. “I can read a lot of things now...the only problem is understanding what everything means.”

“That’s still...really impressive.”

“Really~? Ah, I’m flattered~ I can do more, if you’d like~”

Iwaizumi nods, and as Oikawa narrates different events from here, there, and everywhere, he can’t help but close his eyes, going under the waves of that beautiful voice.

* * *

Oikawa manages to pull a job at another pizza place, and after pooling together some money, they’re able to get a car. Even if it’s used, the sedan’s perfect enough for the two of them, reliable and ready. Iwaizumi takes pride in their little piece of Japan away from home, making sure to keep the car clean and properly maintained.

Oikawa sometimes jokes how Iwaizumi’s found himself another lover, but by the end of the night, he’s reassured that Iwaizumi’s his and his alone.

* * *

It’s Oikawa’s birthday, and Iwaizumi nearly tears his hair out figuring out what exactly to get his lover.

And then he glances outside and gets an idea.

The next day, Iwaizumi comes home from work early with a small bundle of barking joy, and as soon Oikawa sees their sweet little collie mix, he knows he’s in love.

Nowadays, Iwaizumi’s the one to jest about how Oikawa’s up and gone and found himself another lover.

* * *

Iwaizumi remembers the day that their precious, fragile paradise shattered.

And this time, there’s no way to pick up the pieces. It’s gone.

Forever.

He remembers the phone on his desk ringing and how he promptly picks it up, unaware that this call would be the end of his world as he knew it.

* * *

“Are you Mr. Hajime Iwaizumi?” the voice on the other end queried.

“Yes, I am.”

“Are you in any way related to Mr. Tooru Oikawa?”

Iwaizumi cocked a brow at that, leaning back in his chair. “Yes. Why?”

“I’m sorry, sir, but we would like you to come and confirm Tooru’s body at ------ Medical Center.”

“...Pardon?”

“Mr. Tooru was involved in a car crash and sustained severe head injuries. He was declared dead at the scene.”

The phone slipped out of Iwaizumi’s hand and hit the floor, the earpiece dangling down pathetically from its wire.  

This had to be a joke. A cruel, sick joke that some deranged person was playing on him.

He picked up the phone. “Mr. Iwaizumi?”

“You’re joking, right? There’s no way my Tooru’s dead. You’re lying.”

“I’m extremely sorry for your loss, sir.”

Iwaizumi took down the address of the hospital and left. All he could remember of the cab ride over was that he was numb all over.

He felt like he was nine all over again.

* * *

The guy on the phone wasn’t lying.

Iwaizumi was ushered into a room with blindingly white and bare walls. In the middle of it lay a figure on a stretcher covered with a sheet.

He shook as he walked up to that stretcher, and he remembers how his heart broke as he pulled away the fabric.

Oikawa’s head was wrapped in white, hiding those breathtaking eyes Iwaizumi’d just seen full of liveliness that very morning. He’d never get to see those eyes again. And those gorgeous lips...he’d never feel Oikawa’s lips turn up as they kissed or hear them speak the most divine poetry in the most divine voice once more.

Oikawa was stiff, as if the life and animation that formerly possessed his body had been drained out. It’s classic rigor mortis, the doctor says. And there seem to be bruises that have bloomed all over his body, and the doctor adds that it’s lividity, congestion of blood underneath the skin.

Iwaizumi can’t find it within himself to cry. All he could do was grab a cold hand, lifting it up to his lips and kissing every fingertip, loving them for the last time in this godforsaken world.

The doctor left the room, allowing him some privacy.

“You’re beautiful, Tooru,” he whispered with a wry, painful smile. “Even in death, you’re so damn beautiful.”

He tangled their fingers together, and _oh god,_ it hurts so much, and all Iwaizumi wants to do is scream at this sick world for taking his sun, moon, and stars away. But he can’t. He just fucking can’t. He’s always been that coward. He could never speak when it truly mattered.

He moved up, kissing that forehead, then that nose, and finally, those lips. He pressed his lips on the spot above Oikawa’s heart.

He glanced up, as if in the hopes that his Tooru wasn’t actually dead, that he’d see those eyes light up and those lips turning up in a wonderful smile. _Yeah, right._

Iwaizumi’s last words to Oikawa were the words he dreamed of telling Oikawa one day.

 _I take you, Tooru Oikawa, for my lawful husband,_ _to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part._

* * *

They take Oikawa away.

The funeral home’s called, and everything is set up. A closed coffin funeral takes place a few days later, since Oikawa’s body wasn’t in any state to be seen.

It’s a small, private event. The only other people there were Oikawa’s and Iwaizumi’s coworkers, and although everyone gives Iwaizumi their heartfelt condolences, Iwaizumi can’t tear himself away from the loss.

When he looks back on it, Iwaizumi realizes that he doesn’t remember anything from that day nor the days that followed. He doesn’t remember when Oikawa’s coffin was finally lowered into the ground, when the dirt was piled back over it, when everyone left.

All Iwaizumi remembers is kneeling in front of that tombstone and finally, _finally_ breaking and laying there for hours on end, his tears soaking the cold, unfeeling ground.

Oikawa was ripped away from him again.

And this time, he was gone for good.

* * *

Iwaizumi gives away the dog, sells the furniture, and quits his job.

He wanders around from town to town for a while. He has enough money from the sales of their furniture to last him for a few weeks. When the money’s gone...then that was it, he guessed.

He finds his way back to San Francisco. After traversing the city for a few days, he finds himself at a beach with 200 feet cliffs and the ocean lapping at the base of the sheets of jagged rock.

It’s dark now. The sky’s for the most part clear, a rarity in this damned place.

Iwaizumi sits down on the edge of one of the cliffs and sifts through his wallet. He’s down to a dollar.

A dollar wouldn’t do shit. He flings the bill away, and it’s caught by the wind for a few moments, before escaping its grip and drifting down pathetically to the ocean below.

He lays down. The ground’s hard and uncomfortable, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about anything anymore.

All he can see are the stars. And he’s reminded of Oikawa, of how his boyfriend loved the stars, constantly pointing out the many constellations and occasional planet and musing about the possibility of alien life somewhere in the middle of God-knew-what galaxy.

Iwaizumi snorts briefly at that, and he stretches an arm up to the sky. He murmurs in broken, yet familiar Japanese that he didn’t care so much for the stars, since his star, no, his universe was found in the persona of Oikawa Tooru.

And he hears Oikawa’s soft, wonderful voice besides him as he closes his eyes. “Iwa-chan...you’re not jealous, are you? I love these stars and our actual universe...but nothing could ever replace my universe...Nothing could ever replace you.”

And he feels Oikawa’s lips press against his, gentle, addicting, _there._ He feels Oikawa’s arms around his neck, pulling their bodies closer. He feels the love and underlying desire flickering inside for a moment. He feels those fingers tangling in his hair, begging for more, more, _more_. Everything feels so real, and Iwaizumi reaches over, as if he could press his body to Oikawa’s and love his starry-eyed lover with everything within him-

But the past disappears with a gust of wind, and Iwaizumi finds himself back on the cliff, looking up at the stars. _As if I could bring him back. What a fucking joke, Hajime._

The stars had stopped shining the day Oikawa left for the last time, but for a moment, just for a moment, they shone gloriously.

**Author's Note:**

> Forgive me.


End file.
